“The plural of anecdote is not data.” -Dr. Stuart Fischbein, supporter of choices in childbirth and vaginal breech birth

I get all self righteously annoyed when people make decisions based on something that happened to their friend or their uncle's hairdresser. “Oh my gosh I could never get a pedicure, my mom got fungus from one of those places!” I lived in Minnesota too long to do anything but shake my head sympathetically and sigh, but whenever I hear one of these anecdotes, I am slapped with inner turmoil. Oh crap, that's true. I probably shouldn't do it either. I just got rid of that one little moldy toe, what if it comes back? It's not worth the risk. It's not worth the risk. Who cares what your toes look like anyway...But...I love sitting there in the big faux leather chair and getting the little foot rub and I just feel so pampered. I can be someone else in that chair... a person without toddlers climbing up her demanding fruit snacks. Whatever, I'm not going to get a fungus. I'll just double check reviews and make sure they get sterilized tools each time. There. That should free me of any trifling risk that ever existed. A fungus from a salon, my foot! I love a good anecdote. You love a good anecdote. On top of that, we want to believe these anecdotes, even if they are third hand or the 3428th forwarded click. Even if they are terrifying. Especially if they are terrifying. We're more likely to repeat horror stories, probably because we love each other and are trying to warn each other of the dangers inherent in grocery shopping, filling your car with gas, and ironing. Especially ironing. (Admit that it's horrifying.) You should probably just have your groceries delivered, stay home, and read all day long (but beware becoming so fat, sedentary and antisocial that your skin fuses to your recliner). But seriously, we tell stories as a way of both healing and perpetuating our own fear by planning to avoid the same hideous outcomes in our own lives. It's healing because it didn't happen to us and because we feel better about the crap that happened to someone else when we share the burden by telling the story again. It's perpetuating our own fear by encouraging decisions based on fear. Making decisions based in fear is a good way of setting ourselves up for poor outcomes, continued fear, resentment, distrust, and misery.* Instead, I choose to make decisions based on love. Or at least, I try to. I think about it sometimes. OK, I once read that somewhere. I do try to remember it in retrospect: Did I do that out of fear or out of love? The distinction can be quite difficult to make. It's a valuable one to make, though, if you plan on continuing to be human. We tell stories and listen to stories and we take them in. We want to be warned about what bad things might happen and how we can avoid them. We want to have control, to think we can avoid all the bad things by just being informed and diligent enough. Well, I do. I really do.

I found a bumper sticker that I put on my laptop. ALL YOUR FEARS ARE LIES. If this is a quote or reference from some horrible low-budget sci-fi series, I'm really sorry and I may recant. Barring that, it's helped me a lot to relax and to make decisions based on love. Here is an example from my own trifling life:

I'm afraid of cord prolapse, head entrapment and an unassisted birth, so I'm going to schedule a cesarean. OR I love my baby and want what's best and safest for her and myself so I'm going to schedule a cesarean.

Notice that the two are all wrapped up in each other. Just because I am afraid of those dangers does not mean I do not love my baby and myself. And in loving my baby and myself I am not dismissing concern over prolapse or head entrapment. Also note that it doesn't matter what the truth or the facts are; it's not a decision based on data. The data may say that it's best and safest to have a cesarean or it may say otherwise. Having information will prevent a harmful belief (e.g. a cesarean is always safer with a breech baby) but past that it doesn't matter. It's vitally important to get information, and the data will factor into it, but the soundness of my decision does not matter near as much as why I am making that decision. The point is: where in my heart is my decision coming from? Fear? Or Love? This distinction makes all the difference in how my life moves forward. When all is said and done, even if it turned out badly, I will either look back and say “I made the best decision I could” or “I was so scared, I felt like I didn't have a choice, but I chose wrong naawhaaahhhahawahh!” With fear comes trouble and with love comes peace. The devil is the father of all lies. Jesus said: Be not afraid, only believe.

All your fears are lies. Especially in birth and parenting, we make a lot of decisions that are fraught with fear and love. If we can pick our decisions apart and focus on the love, infusing them with more love, we will make better decisions. Bad things happen, but fear does not make good or smart decisions. Fear is not real. Love is. Life can be beautiful, perfect even. Things can work out in your favor. It can all go as you hoped and planned. With love, wonderful is not a ridiculous expectation. Love hopeth all things.

*This is why midwives get red flags when a client's main desire for a home birth is because she is afraid of hospitals.

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I'm Lauren. Since my experience with my footling breech I have been happily bringing women information to help them make decisions about their babies and their births. I am a certified childbirth educator and teach birth classes near Annapolis, MD. I really enjoy talking and learning about all aspects of parenthood, especially as they relate to societal expectations and norms. Besides helping others, this blog is mostly for me--I write to think. I am not sure of anything. I just hope.